Heaven And Hell And Everything In Between
by EFAW
Summary: Travis meets a familiar face, learns a few things, and realizes his life is very strange. Also, Wes makes a friend (sort of). Demon!Wes AU.


**Summary:** Travis meets a familiar face, learns a few things, and realizes his life is very strange. Also, Wes makes a friend (sort of). Demon!Wes AU.

 **Warnings:** Mentions of death.

 **Disclaimer:** I neither own nor am affiliated with Common Law in anyway.

 **This story is set some time after my previous story "Leap Of Faith". If you haven't read that one yet, some parts of this one might not make sense.**

 **OOOO**

 **Heaven And Hell And Everything In Between**

" _I am not strange. I am just not normal."_

— _Salvador Dali_

 **XXXX**

He meets her at the supermarket. He's going in as she's coming out, and when they collide soup cans go flying.

"Aw shit," he mutters, scrabbling to grab the cans before they roll into the parking lot. "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's not a problem," she says, and her voice niggles Travis's brain with familiarity, but he's too busy fishing a can from under the plants-for-sale to focus on it. Besides, he knows lots of people, it totally isn't unusual for him to have passing familiarity with many random women.

Then he emerges triumphant with the can and turns to hand it to her, and he gets a good look at her face. Soft dark hair and sharp blue eyes and he realizes _exactly_ where he knows her from.

 _The blade drives deep inside of him, under his ribs and into his heart, and the angel backs away, looking horrified, and Travis looks down and sees the silver blade sticking out of his chest—_

He recoils, body moving before his mind can stop screaming in panic _(Oh my god oh my god oh my god!)_ , and his chest is tight, a sharp, pain right behind his sternum like he's being stabbed all over again because he _knows_ her, she _killed_ him and he can't—

She smiles and takes the cans from his hands and says, "Thank you."

Travis pauses. There's no recognition in her voice, no lighting of her eyes that says she remembers him. Just a bland, vague smile, polite as though he's nothing more than the man who knocked her groceries down.

But how…?

She shifts, moving the grocery bag to her hip and tugging her purse onto her shoulder. Right, because _that_ makes sense, an angel with a _purse_ —

Oh. _Oh,_ duh, Supernatural 101. Angels need to have vessels, just like demons. So this woman must be…

Travis comes out of his thoughts to find the woman staring at him, brow furrowed just a little like she's trying to remember something. "I know you," she murmurs, almost a question.

That's his cue to skedaddle. "Sorry again," he says quickly, backpedaling. Angel or vessel, she still _killed_ him, he can still feel the pain in his chest, and he wants to go away now.

He's made it off the curb when she says, "Travis." He freezes.

Slowly, he turns around. She's watching him, eyes distant, dreamy. "I know you," she says again, and then her gaze snaps to his, blue eyes sharp, focused, steel in her gaze.

"Travis," she says again, and he feels a shiver run down his spine.

 **XXXX**

She gets a mocha with whipped cream. Travis has never heard of an angel eating _anything_ ; he's not sure they _can_ eat, despite inhabiting human bodies. Wes certainly doesn't eat unless he feels like it. And she has a car, a little silver Toyota she stuck all her groceries in, so—well, okay, not the best comparison because Wes has a car too, so if he's trying to prove she's _not_ an angel by comparing her to his partner, he's really doing a piss poor job.

Still. He has a hard time believing angels drive Toyotas and buy cream of mushroom at the supermarket.

On the other hand…

"You…" He bites his lip, wraps his hands around his hot chocolate. "You're not…Eae?"

Her eyebrows go up, and then she laughs, a bright sound that bursts out of her. "Oh, no, _no,_ I'm Alex." She holds her hand out over the table. "Alex MacFarland. Nice to meet you."

Warily, he shifts. "But she's…not here? Right now?"

"No," she assures him, hand still outstretched, "Just me. I promise."

Slowly, he slides his hand into hers. "Travis Marks." Her hand is soft, grip firm and professional. If she seems annoyed by his hesitation, she doesn't show it.

Silence descends.

Travis has never been very good with silence.

"So…" He twists paper holder around his cup. "What, uh. What do you do?"

"I work in law."

"Oh? You're a lawyer?"

"Legal consultant, actually. Bit more flexibility." She pulls a face. "It's hard to have a consistent caseload when I'm constantly being inhabited by an angel who has bigger things to worry about."

Fair enough. "How'd you, uh, get into that, anyway? Being an angel host?"

Alex ducks her head, one corner of her mouth lifting wryly. "I heard a voice in my head."

Travis's eyebrows go up. "Really?"

She chuckles. "Yeah that's pretty much the reaction I had. It's a bit unsettling hearing a voice saying she's an angel of God. But after a few miracles I started believing it. So when she asked for my help…" She shrugs, using her straw to mix the whipped cream with her drink. "I always wanted to help people, you know? I figured…what better way than to help an _angel?"_ She takes a long sip, studying him. "What about you?"

He leans back. "Well, my story isn't nearly as interesting as yours. No miracles, and the only voice was my captain's, telling me I had a new partner and oh yeah, he's a demon so play nice." He shrugs a little. "But it's worked out so far, I guess."

She smiles a little. "You're very fond of him. And he's very…protective of you."

Travis snorts, rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that's one word for it." Not that it's not an accurate word. It's just not the whole picture, either.

But Travis is _not_ about to go into the complexities of his working relationship with this woman he just met—they're definitely not on that level yet. Instead, he shifts topics, moves it back onto her. "What's it like, being an angel host?" Wes has possessed him a few times, but he's betting it's nothing like what Alex experiences.

Her gaze goes dreamy, distant, and her smile is beatific. "It's…god, it's incredible. It's like flying through space, strapped to the tail of a comet. It's exhilarating, and terrifying, and." She sighs dreamily. "Oh, it's _amazing_."

Yeah, Travis knows what that's like. He leans forward. "Do you remember it, when she's inside you?"

Alex hums absently. "Sometimes. I get flashes, glimmers. The thing about comets is they're huge, overwhelming, a light that goes on forever. Most of the time I'm not aware of anything but _her_."

Travis hesitates. "You remembered me."

Her gaze sharpens, focuses on him, and for a second it's like Eae is staring right at him, the force of an angel's gaze pinning him to his chair. It makes his heart race, takes his breath away, and he can't—

Then she smiles sadly, softens, and suddenly he can breathe again. He tries not to let it show, how much he was affected. (He's pretty sure she picked up on it.)

"I remember bringing you back," she says softly, regret painting her expression. "And I remember…" The smile drops, and she rubs her fingers together, a little motion she's been doing this whole time, like she's trying to wipe the feel of something unpleasant off her hands.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and he has to swallow hard before he can tell her, "It wasn't your fault." It wasn't _anybody's_ fault. It was just an unfortunate set of circumstances that ended badly, but it's fixed now. It's fine.

(Someday he'll believe that. Someday he'll stop waking up in the middle of the night, clawing his chest for holes that aren't there. Someday he'll be able to look at a plain piece of white paper without flinching. Someday he really will be fine.)

Like she can suddenly sense then tension between them, Alex smiles cautiously. "She thinks about you a lot," she offers. "You're curious, you and _him_. What you have… She's been around so very long, and she's never seen anything like it. I think she finds you two fascinating."

Travis thinks about that. "Okay, that's kind of weird. And a little unsettling. But you're honestly not the first person to say that." What he's got with Wes is weird and strange and confusing; it's complicated on the best of days, and he can't begin to explain it in a way other people might understand.

Maybe a bit like a vessel and her angel.

He may have found the only person in LA who might even begin to understand his relationship with Wes.

"Do you remember when our lives were normal?" he muses, and Alex laughs, a bright, sudden sound.

"God, that was _such_ a long time ago."

"I know, right?" They grin at each other over the table, and Travis finds himself relaxing.

 **XXXX**

They talk for a little while longer, and when they're ready to leave, Alex pulls a business card from her wallet and holds it out. "If you want to talk again," she offers hesitantly, like she's afraid he'll say no.

But he takes it and then writes his own number on the back of his receipt. "Same to you." And as he's walking away, he thinks this might work out after all.

 **XXXX**

It's nice, having someone to talk to about this kind of thing. Some of his foster family knows about Wes, and his coworkers all know, but it's not like he can sit down and rant about all the way his partner is driving him crazy. They don't _get_ it. Demons and angels aren't a common occurrence on Earth; the world knows about them, and supernatural stories still get a ton of publicity, but it's not like there's one on every street corner.

So it's nice to talk to Alex about this stuff. She doesn't get it, not exactly—what she experiences with Eae is way, _way_ different than the sort of thing Travis has with Wes. But still. Her life has changed in such a fundamental way since it touched the supernatural, and to that, Travis can relate.

It's not all roses and sunshine. Sometimes his chest still goes tight, and he flinches when she looks at him a certain way. Sometimes her eyes go haunted and distant, and she rubs her hands together like she's trying to wash away blood.

But they get around it. They manage. And so they get together and have coffee every now and then. They text during the week. They're casual friends, really, except Travis has shared some things with her that he's never told anyone else, simply because he knows she'll _get_ it. So maybe a little more than friends.

It works.

 **XXXX**

Travis initially has no plans to introduce Wes to Alex, because that's just a bad idea all around. Travis freaked out just seeing her face. Wes's reaction, he suspects, will be a bit… _more_ than that. More explosive, more violent, just _more_ , and no one wants to deal with _that._

But things never go to plan when he's got an overprotective, possessive demon on his heels, so when Wes starts getting suspicious about all the time he's spending with an unnamed new friend, Travis knows it's a hop, skip, and a jump to Wes following him and finding out who Alex is. The only reasonable thing to do is set up a meeting, in a controlled place where Alex can make a quick getaway while Travis distracts a homicidal demon, should it come to that.

Alex is just as understandably nervous at the meeting. Travis keeps himself between her and his partner and says, "Wes, this is Alex. Alex, Wes."

Wes stares at her. Alex shifts, and she's wearing sneakers because he gave her the run-down on how this might go, so she is ready to bolt at a moment's notice.

Wes frowns, narrows his eyes, and tilts his head. His eyes turn black, and Travis tenses, ready to leap into action.

Then Wes's eyes go blue again, and he squints suspiciously. "Where's your holy featherduster? She'd better not be on her way."

Travis exhales in relief and relaxes. This is actually a much more positive outcome than he expected.

 **XXXX**

Surprisingly, Wes and Alex actually hit it off. They find common interest in the law, because Wes used to be a lawyer before he got bored and became a cop, and then they're texting during the day and, like, _bonding_ , or something. Travis is kind of jealous, which is stupid, because Wes is totally allowed to know people beyond him and he should actually be praising the fact that Wes is out there making friends. Well, one friend, at least.

(Besides, he reminds himself, there's no way Alex will ever become the focus of Wes's attention the way Travis is, so he needn't worry that Wes's creepy, possessive, demonic affection will shift away from him.

On second thought… )

"Whatcha doin?" he asks, watching in amusement as Wes frowns at his phone.

"Alex wants to introduce me to yoga," Wes responds. "What the hell is yoga?"

"It'll be good for you," Travis says vaguely. Oh my _god_ , Wes doing _yoga_. He's going to want pictures. "Didn't Cap just talk to you about your temper? Yoga will help."

Wes frowns dubiously, but taps out a response. What he's feeling is pride, Travis reminds himself. Wes is making friends. That is a good thing.

"You like Alex, huh?"

Wes shrugs, setting his phone down. "She's alright, I suppose. She's…what's the word I'm looking for?"

"I really have no idea."

"You know. She's not evil, or wicked, or mean. She's smart and witty and…kind of boring?"

Travis translates this from Wes-speak into general human language and cautiously ventures forth with, "She's nice?"

Wes snaps his fingers triumphantly. "That's the one."

Travis chuckles, shaking his head. "Well, it's good you've found a friend. Let me know when yoga is, I'll tag along."

"You do yoga?"

"Not even a little." Travis grins. "But it is gonna be amazing watching you do it."

 **XXXX**

The thing is, Alex is just a normal person, sort of sweetly sarcastic. She's great. If it weren't for the teeny tiny fact that she sort of killed him that one time, Travis would totally make a move. As it is, it's kind of nice having a female friend he's _not_ interested in. Sometimes he even forgets who she is, _what_ she is.

Then he spots her as they're exiting a crime scene, and he says, "Oh hey, there's Alex," and the next thing he knows Wes is tearing across the street, eyes black and roaring vicious things in a language nowhere close to English. Alex—no, Travis realizes, _Eae_ —disappears, gone in a flash of wings. Travis catches up with his partner as Wes spins futilely, spitting curses at the sky.

"How the hell did you know it was Eae?" he asks, once Wes has calmed down from his rage a little. "I thought it was Alex."

Wes gives him a flat look. "That's stupid, they look nothing alike."

Travis rolls his eyes. "Um, yeah they do. They're exactly the same. I wouldn't have known at all if you hadn't gone on a murderous rampage."

Wes is staring at him like he's grown a second head. "That's ridiculous. They're absolutely nothing alike. The angel burns, so bright you can't look at it, and Alex is sort of a light blue with some green in there, and a color I don't have a name for because I'm not sure it's on the human spectrum."

Now it's Travis's turn to stare. " _What?_ "

"So see? Nothing alike." The demon crosses his arms triumphantly, argument won.

Travis continues to stare. Wes shifts, shoulders dropping an inch. "What?" he snaps, and his eyes flicker black.

Oh. Oh, _wow_ , Travis feels stupid now.

Wes is a _demon_. And it's not like Travis ever forgets that, not when Wes does something every three seconds to remind him of the fact, but sometimes he forgets what that _means_. Wes is _literally_ not human. It would make sense he doesn't see the world the way Travis does.

"Wes, what do I look like?"

His partner shrugs. "Bright gold, mostly. Touch of red around the edges, a splash of blue."

So, okay, wow. "No, I mean—" He waves a hand at his face. "Like, _literally_ , what do I look like?"

"Oh, I know this one. You're charmingly handsome." Wes rocks back on his heels, looking as proud as an elementary student who answered the teacher's question right.

"Good answer. Not quite what I was looking for." Travis ponders this. No wonder Wes knew right away that Alex wasn't the angel. He's not looking at her face, he's looking at something else, something deeper. Is he looking at people's souls? Is that what Travis's soul looks like? That's kind of cool, actually. "Can you even see my face?"

Wes scoffs like that's the stupidest question he's ever heard. "Of course I can. I have eyes."

"But you're not looking at it."

Wes says, "Well, of course not," like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's just your meat suit. That's not _you_." He takes Travis's stunned silence the wrong way and hastily amends, "It's a very good-looking meat suit, though."

"Gee, thanks." Travis rolls his eyes, but he can't help grinning a little, and his mind is still mulling over what he just learned.

A couple of things make a lot more sense, now.

 **XXXX**

He's having lunch with Alex when she stops speaking mid-sentence and looks at the sky. A moment later she shoots him an apologetic look and rises. "Sorry, I have to go."

He climbs to his feet as well, worried even though she seems totally at ease. "What's up?"

She makes a little fluttery motion with her fingers. "Duty beckons. Give me a call and we'll reschedule?"

"Yeah, of course." She flashes him one more apologetic smile, then strides down the sidewalk. As he watches, a random gust of wind ruffles her hair, and then she vanishes, with a sound like beating wings.

Travis tucks his hands in his pockets and says to no one, "My life is really strange."

He wouldn't change a damn thing.

 **OOOO**

 **When I was originally writing 'Leap Of Faith', I always pictured Eae as Elizabeth Chomko, mostly because I had never figured out how I wanted to incorporate Alex into this 'verse. Of course, once I did that there was no turning back, so I decided if Eae is the angel then Alex is probably the vessel. And what if Travis met her and they had a talk, two humans bonding over the weirdness of their lives. And then Wes shoehorned his way into the story and I'm not sure what this is anymore.**

 **This ended up kind of a filler fic, I guess, but I like it and I think it's kind of cute, maybe. Anyway. Let me know what you thought! Comments, reviews, and constructive criticism are always welcome!**

 **Until next time~!**


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